Defiant and Deserving
by Ela
Summary: I hate my titles, they have nothing to do with the story, which really involves Rogue thinking to herself about Remy, who left her behind. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING ANYMORE!


Remy blew up the disclaimer saying that I don't own X-Men: Evolution. (Sorry Red Witch, I'm kinda copying you now). So, who here was in shock upon seeing that one hour special besides me? I don't notice the names of the episodes. I think it was "Day of Reckoning" or something like that. Well, who hasn't recovered? *raises hand* Alrighty, here's something I wrote when I was on the computer and my dad's watch beeped at 3, like it always does. (My father never wears his watch when he's not working. Unfortunately my father wasn't home at the time.) That's when my muse decided to strike me. At first I didn't know what my story was about. Then I decided, what the hey, make it a Rogue and Remy fic, a genre that I'm not real experienced in. One thing I must say, I LOVE REMY! ^_^ Oh, and I decided they should be living together in this. It's my little dream world. Don't burst my bubble. Enjoy!  
  
Ps: Yeah, there's a pattern here. I use the song "Marie" a lot, especially since Rogue's real name is Marie. The song "Marie" is sung by Judy Collins on the CD "Hard Times for Lovers."  
  
Wow. What a long… whatever that was. When will I cease my ramblings? Now? Okay.  
  
"I love you I loved you  
  
The first time I saw you  
  
And I always will love you  
  
Marie…"  
  
I stared at the music box in my hands. It was small, like a pocket watch, and gold. The small ballerina twirled on tiptoe, her graceful arms arced above her head.  
  
I wonder where he got it from. Did he steal it? Or buy it with his hard- earned money? Or, did he steal the money and then buy it?  
  
Am I worth it?  
  
Stolen or not, it was in my possession now. He had given it to me because he cared about me. He still wanted my affection. He… loved me. Loved me enough to give me presents out of the blue. Sent from afar.  
  
He thought he could still keep me. How foolish of him. I mean, seriously… but why am I crying? He's the one who decided, this is how it should be. He left me behind. He's tearing me into such tiny pieces, the world's best jigsaw puzzler couldn't put me back together. I shouldn't love him anymore. My head keeps on telling my heart that.  
  
Then why is my heart splitting in two?  
  
"Oh I love you I loved you  
  
The first time I--"  
  
I closed the music box. I've heard the song before… too many times. He thinks he can play his games with me. He's wrong.  
  
Maybe I'm wrong.  
  
"BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP…"  
  
I looked over at his nightstand, where all his things still laid perfectly in place. It was three o'clock. I don't know why he programmed the alarm for three o'clock, but it's been that way since we moved in together.  
  
I've been listening to that clock beep at three o'clock for weeks, months… The times change but I always wake up to that red glow of crystal numbers.  
  
I used to wake up to a head of brown hair.  
  
"BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP."  
  
I never have the nerve to turn it off. Maybe, if I do, he won't come back for me…  
  
The room seemed empty now, all quiet. The sun streamed through the windows, dancing across our bedroom.  
  
I looked at the music box again. MY music box. I read the words inscribed on the top.  
  
"Ma chère Marie, love you."  
  
I smiled. He would say those words to me every night as we drifted away to the land of dreams.  
  
The silence was getting to me. I opened my music box.  
  
"—saw you  
  
And I always will love you  
  
Marie."  
  
I sat on our bed, reveling in his love. He loves me. He loves me still. No distance can change that. He would give the moon for me.  
  
I hummed along to the music. Oh forgive me, I know it was wrong, but I couldn't help it.  
  
Tomorrow, I'll wear my hair up. Just for him.  
  
Oh Lord, what has he done to me?  
  
He'll never come back. Happy endings are for movies. Now, there's no riding off into the sunset together. No sweet, tender kisses before we embark to Dreamland. He'll never come back for me. Too many waters and lands divide us.  
  
I'll never again hear his voice sing sweetly to me, in his intoxicating French accent.  
  
Why did he leave me here? I must ask this repeatedly. Why? Why did he need to leave? Why… why does he love me? Why do I love him?  
  
I closed the music box.  
  
I put it on his nightstand, next to his clock.  
  
When he comes back for me, I'll open it again. 


End file.
